Shores of California
by latessitrice
Summary: Edward, alone in the forest, thinking about Bella.  Originally written for Fics for Nashville.


**A/N: This was inspired by kisvakondok and a random comment on A Different Forest. It turned out a little more savage than I intended, but some of you pervs might like it. It takes place in 'Twilight' when Edward goes hunting for the first time after declaring himself to Bella. Consider it a missing moment, if you will, although I doubt SM ever had anything like this in mind when she sent him off to hunt. I originally wrote it for Fics for Nashville.**

**The title comes from a Dresden Dolls song that includes a line about boys masturbating. I couldn't not use it.**

**Thanks go to Octoberland for her beta duties and all round fabulousness.**

**Shores of California**

"You smell like her," Rosalie announced in disgust as I entered the clearing. I'd just run for an hour through the forest and even now I could still smell the lingering fragrance of Bella around me. This was despite having spent the past few days in her presence. I was immune to the draw of her blood but her scent still overruled all others.

"Don't be like that, Rosie." Emmett intervened, stepping between us before things could escalate into an argument. Every time I'd seen her lately, she'd made a point of being disgusted, trying to draw my ire.

She scowled at both of us and stalked off into the tree line, lunging suddenly into a sprint that had her out of sight in seconds. Emmett cursed and plunged after her.

I repeated his curse and turned to the remaining members of my family, Alice and Jasper. Carlisle and Esme were hunting closer to Forks so that he could return to his shift at the hospital as soon as the cloud cover returned; I was late getting here because I'd been dawdling, reluctant to leave Bella's side.

"She'll get over it," Alice said confidently. Alice was confident about everything, even the things she couldn't see unfolding. I raised an eyebrow at her and didn't need to voice the question. "She's never exactly going to be friendly to Bella, no, but she doesn't want to kill her anymore."

I winced at the thought of the damage Rosalie could do to Bella if she put her mind to it. That was one reason I'd been so recalcitrant to come this far away to hunt – Bella was right when she described herself as a magnet for danger, and it was hard for me to deflect that danger if I wasn't nearby. Although I'd argued in favor of staying close to Forks, I'd been cajoled into retreating to our favorite hunting ground, on the first day of sunshine since I'd declared myself to her.

Things were easier than I'd expected with Bella. The fact that I'd found the strength to kiss her and not kill her in the act had been an astonishing source of joy, and I tried to tap into that source as often as I could. It was my new favorite thing, with every other activity I'd ever engaged in paling in comparison. I'd be happy to never do anything else again.

_Now, that's not strictly true…_

I ignored the snide little voice in my head and remembered instead the way I'd left Bella. She'd still been sleepy, barely aware after a night where I'd been perhaps a little inconsiderate and kept her awake too long, too interested in the warmth of her lips on mine.

I split away from Alice and Jasper, content to hunt on my own. No, not content, I _needed_ to be alone right now. I needed the time to sort through my thoughts about Bella without the girl herself around to snarl them up again, and without Alice to interrupt with her insufferable, all-knowing advice. The forest whirled around me in a tangle of color and sound, its palette a cool distraction from the heat thinking of Bella brought to me.

If I couldn't be kissing her all the time, then holding her while she slept was a wonderful consolation. To be able to hear her thoughts as they spilled, unedited, from her mouth was a source of both amusement and exasperation, especially given the lack of sense her words often made. But occasionally the ramblings of her unconscious mind were all too clear, and all too frustrating.

Last night, Bella's dreams had been clear to me as she twisted and turned in her bed, tangling the sheets around her pale legs and whimpering my name in a voice lowered to a rasp by desire. She wore too little clothing to sleep in to satisfy me, although it delighted all my senses. The more skin there was for me to run my hands over, indulging in its spun-silk softness, the harder it became to not do it. Our relationship was chaste, and she trusted me to lie with her while she slept; no matter what her unconscious mind desired, I couldn't take advantage of that.

She was awakening feelings in me that Esme had always feared would never rouse. As much as the monster in me wanted Bella's blood, and was willing to stay close to her in the hope that it would one day get a chance to taste it, the man in me was distracted by everything else about her. The scent I wore was more than the warm essence of a fragile human girl; it was the scent of a girl whose body was ready for more than I could give her. Her nocturnal wonderings wove subtle promises that snipped at my reasoned control, thread by thread.

I ignored many of the smells around me, enjoying the wind on my skin as I tested my limits. To push my body like this sent exhilaration soaring through me, and allowed me to burn off some of the dissatisfaction I felt. The forest had fallen quiet, retreating in the face of a predator.

A deer bounded its way away from me an acre ahead, but I was there in an instant, my arms around its flank. The bitter odor clashed with the floral echo of my love. As I hesitated to bite, brown eyes turned to stare at me with calm understanding – the resignation of a prey animal that knows it has met its end. I dropped away, startled, and watched the doe leap into the undergrowth.

I moved on, at a slower pace this time, ignoring the muddy scents of the herbivores and searching for the spice of carnivores instead. I didn't want prey; I wanted the hunter.

By the water I found a mountain lion, ready to pounce on a russet-flanked buck. I got there first, tearing the lion's throat in a savage twist that sent a spray of warm blood arcing into my waiting mouth. I let the pulse feed me in hot spurts until its heart slowed, then instinct took over, making me suck roughly until the carcass had no more to give. I dropped it and stepped away, falling to my knees by the water.

I could still smell Bella all over me, even under the pungent copper-and-salt aroma. Would I ever be able to clean her off? I hoped not. The warmth of the fresh blood inside me reminded me of the way it felt to kiss her, the way my body reacted to _her _warmth involuntarily. Everything in my abdomen tightened at the thought of her skin against mine, hot arousal pulsing its way outwards.

In the water my demonic visage glared up at me, lips wet and red, teeth bared. I watched my own hand move from where it lay fisted in the grass to the button of my pants, where my body raged to be let free, to _feel_. I removed the pants, only restraining from tearing them off me because then I'd have to run home naked, throwing them aside.

The first brush of my fingers wrenched a hiss from my throat. In ninety years I had tried this only a few times and never understood the compulsion. Now my actions were driven by the scent and memory of Bella's body and the blood still coating my teeth. I gripped myself, squeezing a fist around my length and jerking down roughly. Nerves screamed in triumph at the movement and my hand started pumping, frantic back and forth movements that were reflected by the demon in the water. He roared and tossed his head, the speed of his strokes blurring the image. His black eyes bore into mine and I saw in those irises the face of the one I loved.

I shouldn't think of Bella, naked and aroused, the way I fantasized about her every night while she dreamed. It was so easy to piece together in my imagination the missing fragments of her body that I'd never seen uncovered, to wonder at the exact color of her nipples or imagine exploring her most secret places. She had no idea of what I was capable of. She'd never seen the savagery that was taking place in my arousal, and I prayed she never would.

My hips thrust forward into my palm with every stroke, and every touch brought a new image of her: dark eyes staring up at me as she sucked me, small breasts bouncing as she moved on top of me, pink skin between her legs that I could explore with my lips and tongue. But my favorite fantasy, and the one that I feared most, featured her beneath me, her warmth surrounding me in every way as I fucked her roughly.

She writhed and pleaded for more, guttural sounds issuing from both of us, and as we both surrendered ourselves to our pleasure, she arched her neck toward me, an elegant slope of pure white, soft and fragrant.

"Please," she whispered, and as I emptied myself inside her, I sank my teeth willingly into that pale expanse. Hot, sweet liquid coated my tongue and I succumbed to my last few frenzied thrusts. She screamed in dual pain and pleasure as I drank her dry.

This flashed through my head in seconds and even as I screamed inside at my own deprivation, my body reached its peak, semen spurting in violent streams to coat my hand and thighs.

I rolled over onto my side, curled up like a fetus while I waited for my exhilaration to subside. This, the hidden part of me that would delight in Bella's sacrifice, was the reason I could never touch her in the way I wanted to. Even if she asked a thousand times, I could never surrender to what we both wanted. To keep her safe, I had to keep my desires locked away, so hidden she could never know they existed.

As clouds rolled in overhead and rain began to fall, I washed myself clean in the water and redressed. It was time to meet up with my family and head back to Forks, to the fragile girl waiting there for me and the twin lusts I suffered in her presence.

* * *

**Thus ends Wankward.**


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